Page 8 of Fortuity
“Despite the challenges you face, you’ve thrived since your transplant. Not just medically, but academically too.” He lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret with me as he continued, “Don’t brag about it out in the waiting room to anyone else, but we consider you our star patientaroundhere.”
My cheeks filled with heat again, and this time when I shrugged it was out of self-consciousness instead of uneasiness. “Because of that stupid article? I really wish the school hadn’t talked me into doing the interviewforit.”
“No, it’s because you’ve thrived despite the odds stacked against you. Looking at it from a purely statistical point of view, you weren’t a good candidate, but by a twist of fate you got your second chance and proved everyone wrong. My team and I are proud to have been a part of thatmiracle.”
Remembering the desperation I’d felt back then, I swallowed down the lump in my throat. My life had hung in the balance, and there hadn’t been anything I could do to control it. My fate had been in the hands of my doctors, and I still wasn’t sure how they’d managed to get me a kidney when my score hadn’t put me anywhere near the top of the list. “And I’m lucky to have all of you onmyside.”
“Do me a favor and keep that in mind when one of us wants to talk about that article you’re so determined to pretend doesn’t exist.” I nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. “We feel like we have a vested interestinyou.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I sighed, making light of their concern because I didn’t know how else to respondtoit.
“And it isn’t every day one of my patients is recognized for their contribution to ourcommunity.”
I offered him a shy smile. “I think you’re overstating things a bit. I’m not out there saving lives like you guys. I’m just helping to educate a small group of high school kids about their college opportunities like my caseworker didforme.”
“I think you’re minimizing the impact you’ve had on others. How many of the foster kids starting their freshman year at your college went to a high school youvisited?”
My cheeks heated again. “Mostofthem.”
“Maybe you didn’t save those kids, but that’s almost a hundred lives you’ve changed for thebetter.”
It was hard to wrap my brain around that number—one hundred and two foster kids had enrolled as freshmen at my school this year. It was a huge increase over the ten of us who’d started there together three years ago, and I couldn’t help but be proud that I’d had something to do with it. “I’m just keeping the promise I made the day I was given a second chance—to put the gift I’ve been given togooduse.”
Dr. Stewart’s kind green eyes narrowed as he searched my face. “Your kidney was a gift, but there’s no debt to pay because of it other than to live your life to the fullest. If helping other foster kids is something you want to do, then keep on doing it. But foryou; not for your donor. Honor their gift by beinghappy.”
“I do like helping them,” I assured him. It wasn’t just about honoring my donor’s sacrifice. Giving back made me feel like I mattered, at least in some small way. But being happy was an utterly foreign concept to me. It just wasn’t something I thoughtabout.
I wasalive.
I had a roof over my head and food in mybelly.
I was close to earning my college degree in social work, my major inspired by the difference Sarah had made in my life and the work I’d done with otherfosterkids.
Having all of that was a bounty to me. Unexpected and greatly appreciated. But maybe it was time for me to strive for more. To find joy in my life.Somehow.
